


Death Number...Who Cares. They've Lost Count

by Python07



Series: If Looks Could Kill [4]
Category: Forever (TV), The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Character death but he doesn't stay dead, Crack Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7482036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of the Cardinal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Number...Who Cares. They've Lost Count

It was a section of the river heavily forested on both sides. The nearest village wasn’t for miles. The only sounds came from the birds, squirrels, and other small animals.

Richelieu swam to the shore to find Sextus and two horses waiting for him. He was naked and clean shaven with shaggier hair, just as he always was when he came back to life. His body was exactly the same as it had been for sixteen hundred years. The only scar that always remained was that fatal knife wound in his left side from the Ides of March.

Sextus smirked and handed him robes. “So what did you in, the gunshot or drowning?”

Richelieu wasn’t the least embarrassed at Sextus seeing him this way “The gunshot hurt, but the water finished me off.” 

Sextus shuddered. “I always hate drowning.”

“Getting burned at the stake is a lot worse,” Richelieu replied as if they were discussing the weather.

“Only if the smoke doesn’t kill you first.” 

Richelieu wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Jesuit robes. The last Jesuit I knew tried to kill me. He tried to poison me. The lingering deaths are annoying and sickness is so boring.”

“True,” Sextus agreed and both of them still sounded as if they were discussing something unremarkable like the latest farming techniques. “None of my deaths this century have made it into my top five.”

“Me neither. Although the Inquisition can get quite creative. We’re both lucky that we’ve never drawn their attention.” Richelieu pulled the robes on. “Do we have my body?”

Sextus nodded. “Already in the water in your black leathers with your cross. It’ll be found in a few days. By then, the water and the summer heat will have done their jobs and the features will be unrecognizable.”

“Good. Who’s getting the funeral due a statesman and prince of the church?”

Sextus snickered. “A lowly copyist. He had fine hands and gray hair, similar to yours. He had no family and the local undertaker had no problem letting me claim the body.”

Richelieu smirked. “The church fathers would be scandalized if they knew.”

“I know. Too bad they’ll never know.”

“I wish we could tell them what Jesus was really like.” 

Sextus let out a mock gasp of outrage. “The real message to love thy brother and have no care of material possessions, a kingdom of the spirit, not of the Earth.” He stamped a foot. “Heresy. If Jesus was here, they would burn him as a heretic.”

Richelieu laughed. “Probably.” He ran both hands through his wet hair, but his curls had always had a mind of their own. “How did my final scene play out?”

Sextus grinned widely. “You should be proud. It’s a tragedy worthy of Pierre Corneille.  
As far as the world is concerned, you took a musket ball meant for His Majesty. When you tumbled off your horse and over the bridge into the water, the King almost went in after you. Treville had to tackle him to the ground to keep him from it.” The smile eased off to a resigned one. “The King wept, like a child for his father.”

Richelieu sighed. “Oh, Louis. I hate to hurt him. He was one of the only ones to see past the Cardinal.” He shook his head. “I tried to train him, but a statesman, he’s not. I had to keep my hand on the wheel or he would’ve undone everything I worked for.”

Sextus put an arm around Richelieu’s shoulders. “You’ve left things as stable for him as you can. You named a competent successor in Mazarin.” 

Richelieu rolled his eyes. “Please, God, don’t let the King despise him because he’s not me.”

“We can only pray that the King has some sense,“ Sextus agreed. “Once it’s found out that the Comte Beaufort is behind your death, Louis will be rid of the highest ranking Spanish spy at court. You’ve done all you can. Now, it’s up to Louis to grow up a little.”

“I just hope the Queen and Treville can keep him from latching on to any of the jackals at court. They know what they have to do.”

“They may, but will either of them have the stomach to do what’s necessary. The Captain doesn’t strike me as the type,” Sextus said flatly. He hung the Fortuna coin around Richelieu’s neck. He patted Richelieu’s chest. “This belongs with you. The goddess willed it long ago.”

Richelieu kissed the coin and tucked it under his robes to rest against his bare chest. He cleared his throat. “For better or worse, Treville will do what honor demands.”

Sextus bared his teeth. “I find that honor is often an excuse for narrow minded stupidity and hypocrisy.”

Richelieu stared at the sun sparkling off the water. “Sextus…” he started but wasn’t sure what to say about Treville.

“No,” Sextus overrode him. “He sent the coin back. He rejected you and then played the part of the spurned lover. He says he despises your methods even though we all know that he has benefited. He refuses to do what needs to be done if it gets his hands dirty, but he was content enough to let you do it. You got to be the target of everyone’s hate.”

“Better me than the King.” Richelieu’s throat was dry. “I’m cut out for that role. I have a thick skin and I can play the monster hiding under the bed. I’ve been doing it a long time. Treville cannot.”

“If he was close enough to be your lover, he should’ve known it’s a role,” Sextus snapped. He was breathing hard and his face was red. “And he should’ve known that you don’t do anything without cause. This time, he chose not to listen.”

“And it’s better this way.” Richelieu turned back to Sextus and took his shoulders. “Peace, Sextus.” He swallowed heavily. “Things may have ended badly between us but I did love him.”

Sextus set his jaw. “He didn’t deserve you.”

Richelieu kissed Sextus’ forehead. “Deserve has nothing to do with it.”

Sextus grunted and handed the reins of one of the horses to Richelieu. “We should be on our way. It will be dark soon.”

Richelieu mounted his horse. “Our passage to New France does not begin for two weeks. I need you to go back to Paris to make sure everything’s gone to plan.”

Sextus followed suit. “I know. I’ll do that while you lay low.” One end of his mouth quirked up. “Hey, do you remember when the Parthians poured molten gold down our throats? That’s at the top of my list.”

Richelieu rolled his eyes. “Why did we ever to go the East?”

“I don’t know,” Sextus drawled. “It wasn’t for the heat, sand, or flies.” 

Richelieu kicked his horse into motion. “Can we stop this line of discussion? It’s morbid.”

Sextus chuckled and fell in beside Richelieu. “I know what your number one is.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You don’t appreciate the bizarre death as much as I do. It’s that first time.” Sextus suddenly grew serious. “Trying to protect Gaius.”

“You’re right,” Richelieu admitted. “He never should’ve died that way. He should’ve met his end on a battlefield, not cut down by betrayers, by those so-called honorable men he spared.” He shook his head. “I heard the rumors. I knew something was going on, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Sextus let out a long sigh. “See, I told you. There is no honor or, if there is, it’s unattainable.”


End file.
